


Subduction

by quartzguts



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen, Identity Issues, Sharing a Body, basically terra regains control of his body for a little bit and everyone has a bad time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 22:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: Xehanort falls asleep. Terra wakes up.





	Subduction

**Author's Note:**

> *checks watch* well would you look at that it's Make Terra Suffer o'clock!

Terra wakes up and immediately knows something is wrong. There’s a hard lump in his throat, a dryness that makes him sputter and cough. His limbs feel like they’re weighed down by iron chains; his skin is itching from invisible scratches just beneath the surface. He stumbles out of bed, and the hardwood floor is shockingly cold, much colder than the plush carpet of his room in the Land of Departure has ever been. He coughs, trying to hack up whatever’s clogging his throat as he stumbles around the room, trying to remember where the door is. He finds one and opens it, only to walk into a bathroom. Confusion rises in the back of his mind. There isn’t a bathroom connected to his room.

 

In that moment, it doesn’t matter. He falls against the counter, turns the faucet on and pools water in his hands. The water is cold, too, and it helps ground him in reality as he drinks. The lump in his throat is subsiding, but the way the water is streaming down his esophagus and into his stomach feels wrong. His whole body feels wrong, actually. It's like there’s glass shards embedded in his skin, his organs, even his face and eyes. Stabbing, uneven pain is running inconsistently through every part of him. Terra groans and shoves his head under the running water, hoping the coolness will numb the pain. When it doesn’t help, he looks up into the mirror.

 

His eyes are orange. His hair is white. Terra screams.

 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been screaming, but then the door to the bedroom is being thrown open and two people come in. One is an older man with long blonde hair, the other a child who looks as much frightened as he is confused. Terra recognizes neither of them.

 

The blonde man takes Terra’s arm and helps him stand. “Xehanort,” he says, and the name sends a shock of horror through Terra’s skull, “are you alright?”

 

It’s not his name. It’s not. Terra can’t say anything, so he screams again instead.

 

The man takes his face in one hand, examining him, and Terra feels like he’s at the doctor’s office, like the one Master Eraqus took him to when he was little and got sick and isn’t that feeling appropriate because he is sick, isn’t he? He has to be. He’s ill and this is just a fever dream. If he just calms down and takes a quick nap he’ll wake up in his room at home with Master Eraqus and Aqua and Ventus at his bedside, worrying over his condition. They’ll tell him that none of this happened. That he’s okay.

 

But he knows in his heart that that isn’t true. It did happen. He’s not okay.

 

He might never be okay again.

 

His screaming has abated into quieter, pained groans, and the blonde man looks to the child and says “Ienzo, go get Master Ansem.” Terra doesn’t remember ever having met a Master Ansem. He doesn’t like the sound of his name.

 

The child - Ienzo, and the name is familiar except it isn’t - runs out of the room. The blonde man shoulders Terra up and takes him into the bedroom. There’s water dripping into his eyes, obscuring his vision, and although Terra nearly trips over nothing several times on their way over to the bed they get there eventually. After the man sits Terra down, he goes about checking his pulse, his breathing, the reaction of his eyes to light, anything and everything he can think to check. It’s a frantic sort of medical exam. Terra is comforted at least somewhat at the knowledge that whoever this man is, he cares about him.

 

Except, wait, that’s wrong. He doesn’t care about Terra. He cares about -

 

The screams return. He doesn’t necessarily _want_ to be screaming. The sound simply escapes from his throat without his permission. The man is panicking again, hands hovering between them, clearly unsure of whether to give Terra a comforting touch or back the fuck off.

 

Ienzo comes back into the room. Another man follows him in. He’s older, and his presence somewhat reminds Terra of Master Eraqus. He feels sick. His mouth snaps shut, the screams halted in the wake of his rising anxiety.

 

“Even, what is this?” the man - is this Master Ansem? - says, coming up to them swiftly. “What happened to him?”

 

“I’m not sure, Master, he just started screaming a few minutes ago,” Even says, moving aside quickly to let Master Ansem kneel before Terra. Panic settles in his gut. He wants to shuffle back on the bed, away from the Master, but his body won’t listen to any of his commands.

 

“Xehanort,” no, no, no, that’s not it, _that’s not his name_ , “are you alright? What happened?”

 

Terra is about to answer when he's interrupted. “Woah, what’s going on here?” The new voice is familiar. Terra’s head snaps up. “I thought I heard a commotion. Is he okay?”

 

“Clearly, he is not,” Even says, tone harsh.

 

The newcomer walks into the room, coming up to sit next to Terra on the bed. He slings an arm around Terra’s shoulders. The feeling is familiar, too. Terra starts to calm, but it’s not a good kind of calm. He feels like he’s being pulled underground, buried beneath the earth while some other force takes over. The darkness and pressure surge and Terra passes out, his heart faltering until its beating is slow and irregular.

 

Xehanort blinks several times, trying to overcome the tears and sink water blurring his vision. Braig helps by using his scarf to wipe his face dry. When Xehanort can see again, he’s greeted by Master Ansem, Even, and Ienzo’s worried faces.

 

“What -” he tries to say, but his throat is scratchy. He coughs. “What happened?”

 

“That’s what we would like to know,” Master Ansem says slowly. “You had some sort of fit. Are you alright?”

 

Xehanort blinks again, hard. There’s some strange darkness blurring the edge of his vision. He feels like he just emerged from deep underground. He shakes his head and folds his hands into fists. The movement feels unnatural. There’s the slightest disconnect between that he wants his body to do and what it actually does; Xehanort shudders. “I believe so. I’m not sure… I can’t remember….”

 

Braig squeezes him. Xehanort instantly feels comforted, but he doesn’t know why he needs to be comforted in the first place. “Hey, don’t push yourself. You had us all worried there for a minute.”

 

“Let’s get you down to the infirmary,” Even says. He’s holding Ienzo’s hand; the child is shaking and standing slightly behind him, like he’s trying to separate himself from Xehanort out of fear.

 

Xehanort nods, and the motion is smoother now. “Alright. I admit, I don’t feel well.”

 

“I’m sure you don’t, after all that,” Master Ansem says, and he moves out of the way so Xehanort can stand up.

 

He stumbles. Braig quickly catches him with an arm around his waist. “Hey there, slow down. Need me to carry you again?”

 

Xehanort scoffs at his teasing grin. He’s starting to come out of whatever happened to him; his thoughts are becoming clearer and his heart rate is slowing down. Despite his falling panic, there’s something about the way Braig is acting that’s keeping him on edge. He definitely seems concerned, like the rest of them, but the look in his eye is just a little… off.

 

“I’m fine,” Xehanort manages, but the strain in his voice doesn’t make it sound very convincing. “I would appreciate some water, though.”

 

Even immediately gets up to go to the bathroom, with Ienzo following him closely. Master Ansem steps back and goes to the door. Xehanort hadn’t noticed, but Dilan and Aeleus are standing just outside, looking unsure of what to do.

 

Braig leans in close. “You alright, Mister Master?”

 

The nickname itself is fine, but the way Braig says it sends warning bells firing through Xehanort’s mind. He sounds like he's trying to smooth things over. “Braig, who is Terra?”

 

Braig’s grip tightens ever so slightly. “Don’t worry about him,” he mutters. “He’s nothing compared to you.”

 

“Isn’t he,” Xehanort says, feeling, for the first time, small.

 

“Sure is. He’s dead, boss.” Braig helps him stand up straight as Even comes back in the room with a glass of water. “Dead and gone.”

 

That doesn't seem right, somehow. Xehanort drinks the water eagerly, hoping that whatever’s left of Terra will be washed away along with the lump in his throat.


End file.
